


Isobel's Incidental Intimacy

by TrystValentine



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Accidental Relationship, Czerka Arms, F/F, Heist, Nar Shaddaa (Star Wars), No Lesbians Die, Rave
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-18
Updated: 2020-09-18
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:06:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26522632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrystValentine/pseuds/TrystValentine
Summary: Isobel and her team have just days to find and steal an experimental shield generator before it leaves planet and their reach forever. Armed with a weak lead and no good ideas, they stake out the only place they think is connected, looking for any way in. When one finally presents itself, it very quickly becomes more complicated than just a step towards their heist goal.





	Isobel's Incidental Intimacy

Kast'sans scanned the note one last time before indicating a large, semi-professional looking building across the alley, "I _think_ that's the Czerka building our contact mentioned." The Kessurian fiddled with a spiney montral while checking the note again. 

"What do you mean 'think'?" Ditch, the massive spider-like Harch asked, glaring at her with all 6 of his eyes. "It either is or it isn't. So, is it?"

"Nar Shaddaa isn't like a forest. There's no rhyme or reason to this planet." She gestured vaguely around, "they just build ugly buildings on top of ugly buildings until you can't even see the ground!"

"Alright, alright," Isobel said, placing a soft brown hand on either of her friends' shoulders. "Let's not make a scene." She started directing them towards a small nearby bistro. "Let's post up and grab a bite, stake-out the front door and see if anything interesting happens." 

"They better have sandwiches," Ditch remarked dryly, his mandibles clacking.

After nearly two hours observing they had barely gleaned anything. Isobel was nursing yet another fruity lemonade, the sweet drink being the best part of this otherwise boring endeavor, when she asked, "so what do you guys think?"

"These roadways are too tight for transport on the scale we're looking for," Ditch explained, "besides, I would expect better security on any laboratory developing secret technologies. These are probably corporate offices. And not important ones, at that."

Isobel turned to Kast, trying not to give in to hopelessness. "There's been very little foot traffic entering. A few folks in business attire, maybe a janitor or two. No lab coats or overalls. Ditch is probably right." Isobel deflated a bit more. On most planets, her good natured charm and candid personality made information gathering fairly straightforward, but here on the rough "smugglers moon" she'd barely manage to coax this location out of a local, and they had no other leads. "Hold up," Kast said, putting the brakes on the depression spiral, "we have movement. Looks like an employee heading over here, everyone act natural." Ditch picked up his sandwich, the third since they sat down, and took a loud, crunchy bite. Kast was propless, having finished her food a while ago, so she faked smoothing out her shirt, dusting imaginary crumbs off. Isobel just stared into her lemonade as if it held all the answers to all their problems. As the Czerka employee passed by, she broke her gaze from the drink to cast a curious glance, only to find the Czerka employee looking back at her. She smiled a warm, friendly smile, and it sent a thrill through Isobel, shivering down her skin and speeding her heart up. She continued staring, a little confused and a little intrigued, as the other woman approached the counter and began ordering a number of sandwiches off of a list. 

"Izzy," someone called out to her. "Izzy, is everything okay?" Isobel snapped out of whatever fog she was in and turned back to her friends, their combined eight eyes fixed on her with a mixture of concern and annoyance. 

"Oh, yeah, sorry," she mumbled, "what's up?"

Kast'sans nodded towards where the Czerka employee was now paying, as a bistro 'wich crafter was piling a mountain of food on the counter. "This is your in, go work your magic."

"Right!" Izzy agreed, standing up maybe a little too fast. She unhooked her gun belt and set it on the table, the blasters and stun grenades clattering as she did. She placed a finger on her DE-10 and made direct eye contact with Kast. "Next to my ship, this blaster is the most cherished thing I've ever owned. Please do not touch it. And certainly do not use it." 

"We promise we won't use your cosplay gun," Ditch said, rolling every one of his many eyes.

She whirled towards him, "this is a fully working replica of the blaster Elmira Copernicus wielded in _Dantooine Dangerous_. I took out a loan with a crime syndicate in order to afford it."

"We know it's very precious to you," Kast said, adopting the same calm affectation she would use to subdue a Nexu. "We won't touch it."

"Good. Thank you." Izzy wanted to sound petulant, but she meant the words and they could tell. She glanced down at herself. Short-legged bib overalls in black over a white tank top; she had wanted her arms and back exposed to show off her tattoos. Between the ink and blasters they hadn't had any trouble, so she had to assume it was working. She looked back to her companions to ask, "how do I look?"

"Like a human who doesn't have anything else to change into," Ditch said, completely deadpan, "now go." 

As Isobel approached, the Czerka woman was trying to load her arms up with over a dozen sandwiches, and struggling to do so. "Oh hey," Izzy said, trying to sound nonchalant, "here, let me help you." She reached over and started collecting the less supported items, ignoring the other woman's halfhearted protests. As she reached for her fifth sandwich, Izzy's hand brushed the bare forearm cradling all the food, and she felt that jolt of electricity a second time. Not like a static shock; more like grabbing a live wire, her ribcage suddenly feeling too constraining and her thoughts becoming a confused, murky pool. 

"Thanks," the Czerka employee said with a smile, her teeth a brilliant white. This woman was certainly better put together than most the folks on Nar Shaddaa; her blond hair was pulled back in a tight bun, her "business casual" shirt was ironed and starched, she even wore hose under her calf-length skirt. Izzy felt like a half assembled disaster compared to her. 

"So, uh," Isobel struggled, "where to?" It wasn't a direct lie, but something in the lack of honesty tasted terrible in her mouth. 

"Oh, it's not far," the woman said, leading the way, "just across this alley." They squeezed through the seemingly endless throngs of smugglers, bounty hunters, and other degenerates that filled the area, and entered into the unmarked Czerka building. Once the door sealed shut behind them, Izzy was immediately aware of how fresh everything smelled. All the speeder exhaust and body odor and factory runoff that poisoned the planet and gave it its sour stench was immediately expunged by the diligent air scrubbers working overtime at the front entrance. 

"Wow, you don't even realize how bad it smells until you get out of it," Isobel commented, breathing a little more heavily. 

"Fresh air, just one of the many perks of working for the Czerka Corporation," it was an offhand, sarcastic remark, but it confirmed this as a Czerka facility. "Right here's fine," she gestured to a bare part of the front desk before turning and offering her hand, "I'm Kastra. I can't thank you enough for your help."

Now was the time for charm, "I'm Isobel, but my friends call me Izzy. And, there's no need to thank me - I saw you in your nice outfit, and the last thing I wanted to see was some food catastrophe ruin it." She punctuated it with a small smile. 

Something in there caught Kastra's attention, because she glanced up as if to take stock of Izzy again, the faintest hint of a smile touching her lips as she playfully tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "You look nice, too," she said before hitting a button on her desk calling into an internal communication system, "food's here," and sitting down. Isobel scanned the panel, noting them as security controls -- she couldn't forget that she was here to scout. She adopted a sort of disaffected attitude, leaning back against the desk so she could observe the plaza, while they continued chatting. She maintained a cordial, almost flirtatious attitude, as she noticed the lack of security cams in the lobby. She stayed honest and warm as the various desk jockeys and file clerks came to collect their lunch. She even blushingly accepted another compliment as the final sandwich was picked up. Committing the important details to memory, Izzy almost missed when Kastra asked, "so, how would you like to get together a little later?"

"Oh, that could be fun," Isobel agreed. A private dinner where she could pry more information would be very useful. Besides, something about Kastra was magnetic, and Izzy couldn't help but be pulled in. "Here's my contact info. I'm looking into a job and don't know how long I'll be on planet, but unless something comes up I'm completely free. Just say the word and I'm there."

"Is that so?" Kastra asked with a devilish grin as she punched the numbers into her com. "I think I'll be saying the word very shortly." Izzy didn't usually make friends this quickly and her heart was racing at how easy and smooth this was going. She was sure that that was the only reason her pulse was quickening. 

Leaving the Czerka building was like wading into warm, wet sewage; from the putrid smell, to the yellowish hue, and even the moist humidity that clung to every inch of her. With an uncontrolled grimace, Isobel motioned for her friends to follow her towards the spaceport. As they rushed to catch up, her communicator _pinged_. Kastra. Already? Izzy snapped off a quick message back before taking her belt from Kast'sans. 

"Alright," she scanned through her memories, "I saw no cameras, no droids. Front desk is manned by a human and has a security panel, but no apparent weapons." She could practically see the strategic wheels turning in Ditch's head, so she continued, "I saw no guards posted in the lobby, and only one came down to grab lunch, so I'm guessing it's not too hot of a location. If we can get a slicer in there we might be able to suss out a few more Czerka facilities. And I don't think it'd be hard to get in there." _Ping_. Kastra, again. Izzy wrote back as Ditch explained the plans she had missed. 

"This generator is very big, so I am thinking we locate the largest trams and spaceports," he gestured with his many hands with each idea, "perhaps we can triangulate an obvious route. Or at least remove impossible ones from consideration." Izzy nodded her assent as she typed yet another message to her newfound companion. 

Kast cleared her throat, drawing Isobel's attention until the next _ping_ came through. "I scoped out the rear entrance while you were inside," she said, slowly, hoping the words would stick, "there's surprisingly low security and just a keycard lock. If we got an employee card, or if that Chadra-fan slicer is any good, it shouldn't be too hard to gain access. Hopefully there's something worth obtaining in there." _Ping_. 

"Well," Isobel said after reading this last message, "I think you guys should look into transport solutions, I'll get the keycard."

"And how, pray tell, do you plan to go about that?"

Holding up her comlink, Izzy explained, "I'm going on a date."

* * *

Calling it a date was a bit of a stretch. Izzy was attracted to guys and Kastra had invited her to more of a dance club than an intimate dinner; even still, she felt as giddy as she had on any "real" first date. She prepared accordingly, too. From finding a place with a decent shower - the ship's sonics simply wouldn't do - to acquiring attire more appropriate for the occasion, with every minute that ticked by she felt less like a contraband smuggling, bounty hunting outlaw, and more like a child getting ready for a homecoming dance.

When she finally had a slow moment, however, sitting in the back of the rideshare speeder heading towards the club, doubt slowly dug its claws in. What was she doing? She was a pilot and a blaster-slinging quick draw, not some con artist. Was she going to lie and lure this poor innocent woman into a web of deceit and treachery all to acquire some piece of technology she'd promised to an Outer Rim gangster? If she swiped the other woman's keycard, would Czerka fire Kastra? Or even worse, put her into slavery to repay the stolen tech? Looking down at her opalescent leotard and the cape trailing from her waist she suddenly felt silly. She should just tell the driver to turn around and take her back, and then... Then... what? Just pass on the job and run from Daro's thugs the rest of her life? Start from scratch, trying to find all new leads? Izzy thought about Elmira Copernicus, the fictional heroine that had been her role model all these years: what would she have done?

It wasn't even a question, because Izzy had read that book: _The Masquerade of the Pirate Queen_. In it, Elmira posed as a Inner Core noble and attended a massive ball all as a guise to steal the legendary vibro-cutlass of the Queen of Pirates. From dancing with criminals she detested, to swashbuckling with deadly murders, her favorite protagonist flattered, cajoled, or simply strong-armed her way to victory. Elmira was sipping blossom wine on a luxury yacht by the epilogue. Izzy could totally do this. Probably. 

"We're here," the driver announced. Last chance. She looked at the sea of bodies outside the club. Dozens of different aliens sporting everything from sheer body stockings to internally luminescent spavats. There was even a Devaronian wearing only a bandolier of glowrods. Isobel's body-contouring outfit felt almost conservative, which continued to help her growing confidence. Then she saw Kastra, chatting with a Wookiee with blue-dyed fur. Her dress shimmered and flickered, morphing in color and shape from a vibrant orange skirt to a neon green pantsuit to a brilliant pink romper. Her whole outfit was an elaborate hologram that sheathed who-knew-what beneath. Izzy began to wonder what was hiding under the shifting light, until she noticed the speeder driver staring at her in the mirror. 

"Sorry, thanks, havagoodnite" she quickly stammered as she slipped out into the humid Nar Shaddaa night. 

"Izzy!" Kastra shouted, rushing over immediately, "I was worried you were gonna stand me up!" Isobel blushed as the other girl quickly kissed her on the cheek and grabbed both of her hands to lead her towards the club. Nar Shaddaa could be stifling in its thoroughfares and public squares, but compared to this roiling mass of bodies and loud thudding music, those claustrophobic places were like open Naboo fields. Two droids in suits were DJing from a raised stage, presiding over the cheering and gyrating masses below. Laser beams cut through the foggy haze that filled the building, lighting only brief glimpses of the revelers as the robots played a song listing reasons to stay up all night.

Kastra immediately blended in, dancing and mingling into the sea of life. Izzy was a bit more reticent, but when her date saw her hesitation, she pulled her in close and led with an expert hand.

As they grinded and entwined their bodies together, Izzy reminded herself that she was building intimacy just so she could learn Czerka's secrets. When they took a pinch of neutron pixie, she was doing it to lower the other woman's guard. When they grabbed a speeder back to Kastra's, it was because that's where the security badge was. As they made out on the couch, Izzy was certain this was part of the plan. When they worked their way to the bedroom, this _new_ plan seemed like a lot more fun. When Izzy woke up the next morning, arms wrapped around Kastra's naked body, all she could think to do was squeeze her warmly, and nuzzle the back of her neck. Then, when they cooked breakfast, it went as smooth as if they'd made a thousand meals together. As they ate, the conversation was warm but light. _Where did you grow up,_ and _what're your favorite holos_? As the meal finished and the conversation wound down, Izzy had an unexpected realization. She wasn't going to leave here with any keycard or corporate secrets. She couldn't risk her actions bringing any harm to Kastra. Delightful, warm, _beautiful_ Kastra. The job would go forward, but without the risk of implicating her. Surely, her friends would understand. Even though a small part of her was sad that she couldn't live up to Elmira Copernicus's story, Isobel was happy to have made this one her own.

"I can't thank you enough for last night, it was a lot of fun." Izzy sat in the warm memories a moment before continuing, "I don't know how much longer I'll be on planet, but I'd really love to see you again."

Kastra smiled that bright smile, "oh I'll make sure that that happens." She pecked a small kiss on Izzy's cheek before saying goodbye, certain this wouldn't be their final encounter. 

**Author's Note:**

> This story was born of my weekly FFG Star Wars RPG group. Isobel, my character, is the party face and talked her way into a Czerka Arms facility a little too well, incidentally seducing the front desk clerk. At the table we mostly glossed over the details, but I really wanted to explore the night in greater detail, so I wrote this little story. I don't normally delve into romance or fanfic much, so any feedback would be nice! Thank you for reading.


End file.
